


silver & twine

by Sagittae



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Magic, Blood Pacts, Blood and Injury, M/M, Magic works differently???, Mutual Pining, Pining, Soul Binding, Telepathy, no one has any idea whats going on - including me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-07-25 11:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20024995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagittae/pseuds/Sagittae
Summary: When the healers of the party run out of magic, Caleb does something drastic to save Fjord's life.





	1. incantations

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the super-indulgent widofjord train! I had so many feeling about these two that I had to write something immediately... Mechanics be damned! Also the incantation may or may not be taken from a certain manga ;v 
> 
> It's late and I can barely keep my eyes open, so if you spot any grammar/spelling issues (i'm sorry) and let me know! Thanks for reading!

Caleb stretches the stomach of an adder and flings it into the opposing beast's face. Thankfully, the damage is enough to stop the hound in its stride just a few feet from where Caleb was pressed against the cavern walls. It whimpers and roars, attempting to shake the acid from its eyes. The sound of sizzling skin and burning flesh causes his stomach to flip and his mind to cloud over for a moment, but he shakes off the feeling, pushing himself onto steadier feet and looking at which of his friends needs his help.

On the other side of the tunnels he can see Jester hovered over a prone Beauregard, whispering a healing spell. He doesn’t linger on the sight long enough to see the silhouette of a green-cloaked man appear behind her briefly.

Instead Caleb scans the area not too far away from him and catches the bright pink of Caduceus’ hair just when the cleric sends a bolt of magic into the growling maw of another hound. Their eyes meet for a split second, and Caleb can see the grimness in his friend’s expression. The cave system that they had entered was a never-ending dungeon holding a giant demon portal that they had been tasked to get rid of. They had spent the past two days traversing the confusing routes and disposing of the monstrosities where they could, but the constant battle was starting to wear on them all. 

Caleb spots a nasty gash on Caduceus’ chest, one that had managed to break a part of his breastplate, but the other man waves it off quickly. “We need to shut off that portal," Caduceus states, pushing a bit of healing into his own skin. "We can’t handle another wave of these things.” 

“Agreed. The contraption must be hidden close by. We can—,” Caleb doesn’t get to finish as he hears Nott’s shrill voice pierce the air.

The sound of shouting and swords clanging draws their attention to a different battle happening further in the caverns. Caleb and Caduceus rush over towards the direction of Fjord and Nott, only to find that they are both engaged with a lithe demon-esque creature with a sickly looking sword in its grasp. Nott is dancing around the room, trying to get in hits with her crossbow while Fjord is barely blocking each attack, his form getting weaker with each blow.

“Shut off the portal!” Fjord yells to them, but the distraction costs him and Caleb watches him hiss as the demon’s blade makes a dangerous gash against Fjord’s neck, narrowly avoiding delicate veins.

Caduceus runs up first, his hands glowing until the light spreads around him in an aura. Spirit guardians rush forward and assault the demon, causing it to writhe and scream in abyssal. 

With the rest of his friends in action, that leaves Caleb with the task of finding and destroying the portal device. He utters the familiar detection spell under his breath and is relieved to see the glow of the mechanism just a few feet away from him. The feeling is immediately washed away when he notices that his trace has picked up other magical auras. Fjord’s sword and Caduceus’ guardians glow brightly against the darkness of the caves, but Caleb’s gaze focuses on the horrible black waves that pulse off of the demon’s blade. 

The same blade that plunges into Fjord’s side at that very moment.

Caleb can hear Jester and Beau’s shouts, both running over to rejoin the fray, but they are nothing compared to the sinister laugh of the demon as it pushes the obsidian longsword deeper into the rended flesh. 

Every muscle in Caleb’s body is screaming at him to _ do something _, but he can only watch the scene in front of him, and because of that he catches every sick detail. The way blood gushes from the wound, leaking around the sword, the hitching of Fjord’s breath — a sign of vitals being compromised, and the tremors in Fjord’s hand when he uses his remaining strength to swing out and slice the demon’s head off. 

Fjord drops to his knees, the blade still embedded in his abdomen. The body of the demon twitches, the eyes in the head still swivel around and for a moment Caleb thinks that the demon may be able to regenerate. However, that fear disappears when Caduceus steps over to the corpse with his spirit guardians still hovering beside him. It takes only seconds for the remains turn into ash underneath the holy light.

Caleb snaps back into action before Nott can remind him, and he throws a well-aimed firebolt at the mechanism sticking out of the dirt, shattering it instantly. The tear in reality seals and the cave is left quiet.

Jester and Caduceus are by Fjord’s side immediately, closely followed by Beau and Nott. Caleb makes sure to collect the broken portal before heading over himself, quietly dreading the damage that the magical sword has done to his friend. By the time he hurries over, Jester is attempting a general healing spell while Caduceus is trying to help get the blade out. 

Beau frowns, “I’m no healer, but isn’t it better to keep the blade in? Something about bleeding out?”

Caduceus shakes his head, “There’s something different about this sword. I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave it there longer than it has to be.” Gentle hands push Fjord into an upright position with a bit of effort and a loud groan.

“Are we sure we have to — _ shit _ — are you sure it has to be removed? Like, right now?” Fjord’s voice comes out strained and Caleb hates how weak the man looks. Skin that is usually a darker green is now pale and sickly, shining with a sheen from sweat. "Maybe wait an hour... or two..."

“It’s magical,” Caleb says immediately. “I could see it. There’s something… evil about it.”

“Besides, you can barely stand, Fjord. Just let Ducey and Jester do their thing,” Nott says sternly. If Caleb wanted to start something (which he generally never did), he might have commented on how motherly the words sounded. "And don't be such a baby."

Fjord grits his teeth, sending a half-hearted glare in Nott's direction, "You try getting a huge fucking sword stuck through your intestines, then we'll-." The rest of the retort is swallowed by another gasp of pain when Fjord accidentally jostles the weapon.

A second or two passes before Jester brings her gaze up and the frown on her face turns into a panicked worry. “It’s not working. There’s something about the wounds. They’re taking longer to heal, but I don’t have enough magic…” 

Caduceus presses a hand on top of hers, both resting on Fjord’s chest. “Let’s do this together, then.”

The rest of the group watches as the clerics combine their power, causing the usual glow of healing magic to shine brighter, almost blinding them. Caleb squints his eyes against the harsh light and instead produces the glowing orbs, trying to inspect Fjord’s wounds. The smaller cuts seal up without a problem, but there are two larger gashes that are more sluggish in recovering, moving at a snail’s pace despite the amount of healing being applied.

In the low light, Caleb can see Fjord’s whole body tense and hunch over. “Fjord—?”

The two healers stop their process abruptly as Fjord begins to cough heavily, spitting out blood in large pools. “Take i-it out. Please, take—.” Another coughing fit sends Fjord falling to one side as his eyes roll up into his head and his limbs go slack.

Caduceus catches him before he hits the ground and it’s Beau that springs into action afterwards. She lunges forward and tugs the blade out from Fjord’s body, only to curse in pain, dropping the weapon as if it were on fire. “It fucking burned me! Caleb, what the hell is that thing?” 

Caleb debates with keeping an eye on Fjord, who has fully collapsed at this point and has both Jester and Caduceus doing whatever they can to stabilize him, or turning over to the wicked blade on the ground. Eventually, he decides that there isn’t much he can do for his wounded friend and tears his eyes away from Fjord’s bloodied body.

_ But you could, _ a voice says in the back of his mind. _ You could help him. He’s dying. _

The image of an old tome appears in his mind, one that he had managed to swipe from the library in Twiggy’s Happy Fun Ball of Tricks. He remembers the page clearly, as he does with most things — a spell — a ritual, but he shakes it from his mind.

He focuses on the blade before him, still weeping with Fjord’s blood, and allows whispers to fill his head, telling him of the properties and dangers of the weapon. “It has a necrotic affect. It… it will eat him from the inside out over time. Like a poison. The corruption gets worse the longer the wound is untreated.” Caleb says the words as if he is rambling off any statistic, but each syllable gets heavier on his tongue. He knows how bad this looks.

Nott appears as alarmed as Caleb feels. “You can heal him, right? The sword is out, so now you can close the wounds, right?”

“Closing the wounds isn’t the problem. The poison is still inside him. Unless we purify his bloodstream, he could die,” Caduceus states, sounding more frustrated than Caleb has ever heard before.

Jester starts to sob.

Beau gives Caduceus a wide-eyed stare, “You’re out of magic, aren’t you?” The cleric grimaces and she spits out a string of curses. “You too, Jess?”

She sniffs and even against the soft light from the orbs, Caleb’s heart clenches at the glistening tears in Jester’s eyes. “I’m sorry! I wasted my magic fighting, I should’ve just—!”

“Hey, don’t blame yourself, alright? You used some magic to save my sorry ass, too; It’s not your fault. We’re... We're gonna figure this out.” Beau tells her, pulling Jester in for a tight hug.

_ You could help him. You know you can_.

“What are our options?” Caleb asks, ignoring the nagging in the back of his head. 

Caduceus shakes his head. “I can bring him back from the brink, from unconsciousness, at least. But there’s only so many times I can pull his soul back before it starts to tear down his will. Each time I bring him back it would be more difficult.” 

_ You know what you should do. You know the best course of action - whatever will keep Fjord **alive**. _

Caleb almost swears with how convenient the circumstances are. “We just need to keep his soul tethered here, ja?”

“Essentially. It would take a few days to heal his body, but as long as his soul is intact…” Caduceus narrows his eyes slightly towards Caleb, but he doesn’t pay him too much attention, because Caleb's already moving.

Caleb approaches Fjord shakily, pulling out a string of silver, whilst kneeling down. He can examine the wounds better now, his eyes darting to and from each laceration. First, he catches the one across Fjord’s collarbone and neck, thankfully shallow. The one that parts the middle of Fjord’s right shoulder is deeper and it's almost as if a chunk of flesh was missing entirely. And of course, the deep puncture sitting below the ribcage asks for the most attention, blood still pumping out of the punctured skin with each broken breath. The area around each injury has black veins trailing around them, signifying the poison’s course. Fjord seems to be unconscious and Caleb notices the feverish movement underneath fluttering eyelids.

“What are you going to do?” Nott asks nervously. 

“I’m going to bind his soul to me,” Caleb answers bluntly, honestly. He wishes that he could tell Fjord about what he’s getting into, or rather, what Caleb is about to put him through. But he can see the faintness in Fjord's small movements and the effort it's taking him just to _breathe_, and Caleb knows that he just has no _time. _

“Uhh...” Beau stands from her comforting position next to Jester, a wariness settling into her tone. "I can't be the only one that's _not_ okay with the way that sounds."

Caduceus hums in thought, but Caleb can tell that he's troubled. “I can’t say much on the matter of soul binding, unfortunately. I wish there was an alternative, but it’s ultimately up to Fjord.” Caleb doesn’t miss the look from the cleric that says, ‘_we’ll talk later._’

Jester speaks up, her eyes red-rimmed, but determined. "I don't like this. But I don't want him to die." 

A variety of emotions flit across Beau’s features until she squeezes her eyes shut, resigned. “I don’t like it, either… But you’re right. We’ll… we’ll figure it out how all this soul bullshit works. First, we have to save it.”

Caleb feels the small hands of Nott grab onto his arm, and he nods to Beau. His shoulders a bit lighter with their approval, and he is grateful. “Caduceus, can you bring him back, please?” His hands are trembling now. “I need to speak with him.”

_ You're not going to let your friend die, not again. _

He ignores the part of his mind that whispers, _not **him**_.

He can feel the eyes of his friends on him, but instead he focuses on centering his magic, pulling from his knowledge and converting that into power. There’s a deep gasp, and Fjord’s eyes search wildly, flitting from Jester, to Caduceus, and then finally resting on Caleb. Their eyes meet, and something passes through their gazes, something that Caleb doesn't think he could ever describe in words.

“I want to help you, Fjord, but you must be willing in the ritual,” Caleb tells him. “I am going to bind your soul... hopefully temporarily.” He leaves out the fact that he's going to be binding Fjord to _him_, and the whispers in the back of his head call him a coward.

Fjord considers Caleb’s words, just for a second, before he manages to croak, “Do it.”

Caleb is taken aback with how quickly he answers. “Being bound will make us —.”

“Caleb…”

“- more vulnerable. You should know that, um, there are certain rules and conditions that come with a soul binding; you will be heavily limited depending on –.”

“_Caleb!_” Fjord stops him by raising his voice ever so slightly, forcing a hardness into it despite how weak he is. “W-We’ll make it work.”

There’s a good bit of effort put into the gesture, but Caleb is shocked when Fjord manages to hold up a hand towards him. The fact that it is the same hand that holds the scar of their promise in Dashila’s lair shakes him even further. Caleb cradles Fjord’s hand gently, and assures him, “We’ll make it work.”

Their gazes lock on to one another for a moment too long. More coughs remind them all that the stab wound is still very much present, and both Nott and Jester hurry to roll Fjord onto his side before he can choke on the blood in his mouth. Yellow eyes flicker shut once again, too tired to stay conscious through the pain.

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it now,” Nott tells him frantically, a terrified look in her eyes.

Caleb nods, “Caduceus, wake him again, please.” 

While the other cleric reaches out for Fjord’s soul again, Caleb prepares himself. The silver twine he had pulled out is now wound through long fingers. The same fingers barely manage to grasp a small dagger from his belt and he runs it along the old scar across his palm. He does the same to Fjord’s hand just as the man regains consciousness with a groan. Caleb notes the lack of awareness in Fjord’s gaze this time.

“Fjord,” Caleb speaks softly, leaning over his friend. “Fjord, I need you to repeat after me for the ritual. Can you do that?” There’s just a moment of hesitation, confusion maybe, before he nods slowly. “Good.”

“Good,” Fjord immediately replies. Caleb makes a face and wonders if Fjord is messing with him or if he is just really out of it. Perhaps he would have laughed if the situation weren’t so dire.

Caleb presses his hand against Fjord’s, feeling the slickness of their blood, the ichor warming their palms. The globes of light immediately disappear and he can hear the faint words of his friends floating around him, but they all seem to fade away as the space between his and Fjord’s entwined hands begins to glow a bright red. Times slows and the air grows denser with the use of magic and blood, weighing down on everything and everyone in the general vicinity.

“_Tie now a silver thread. Tie now the roots of our veins.”_

Caleb opens his eyes during the ritual briefly and finds Fjord staring right at him. There’s something tender his expression, and Caleb feels the urge to stop everything just to investigate that gaze even further. Instead, he presses his forehead down against Fjord’s and continues.

_ “The holly, so we may not be separated. The ivy, so we may not come apart.”_

He forces himself to focus on the rumble of Fjord’s voice as he repeats Caleb’s words. He can feel each shudder, each breath from Fjord — the intimacy of it all is almost unnerving. Almost. 

There’s a tug on something deep inside Caleb, and suddenly there’s another presence in his mind besides his own. Caleb finishes the spell, drawing from his own power and combining it with Fjord’s.

_ “Tie to the yew tree seven times.” _

_ “Until the day the snake spits out its tail.” _

After what feels like years, the light returns and the heaviness of the incantation dissipates. Both Caleb and Fjord gasp at the same time, feeling their souls tie together like an intricately woven rope. A burning sensation curls in Caleb’s side, but the pain eventually subsides into a dull ache. He glances over to Fjord immediately, but is somewhat relieved to find that the man is unconscious, but breathing steadier. If it weren't for the sweat beading his brow and the blood smeared across his skin, Fjord looks almost peaceful in his slumber. Caleb stands on his feet unsteadily, preparing for the magic rebound that he is sure will come.

“Dude, what the hell kind of magic was that?” Beau asks from his side. He notes that while she seems a bit wary, most of the light in her eyes comes from curiosity and awe.

“Blood magic,” Caleb says back, not meaning to sound as curt as he does. “With a bit of death magic.” He bows his head, hiding the exhaustion and pain that is already starting to seep into his bones.

Caleb can feel a few disapproving stares on him - maybe he’s just imagining it, but none of it matters as everything is drowned out by the noise in his head. When he closes his eyes, it’s as if he can see himself, but something else in the distance, as well. Each time he blinks, he catches a glimpse of it. _ Water? Sand? _And then he realizes that he’s standing on a beach – but then that isn’t right either.

“_Caleb?” _ A voice calls out to him, but it’s muffled, as if someone were trying to speak to him underwater. He can’t recognize it at all, but before he lingers on it for too long, the sound of waves washes it away.

He blinks again, and this time, he allows himself to keep his eyes closed – confirming that yes, he’s on a beach - and yes again, he sees someone _ else _ standing on a beach. The distance between them gets shorter with each time he shuts his eyes. A man? They have dark green skin and golden eyes that lock with his so easily. He wishes he could stay there, under that gaze - under the sun and among the sand that makes him want to melt into the ground. Both burn and soothe him at the same time. His muscles ache underneath the heat and he wants so badly to lay on the ground and let the ocean breeze lull him to sleep. 

“_Caleb, are you okay? _” The voice is louder this time, but he still can’t pinpoint who is speaking. Everything begins to mix together. When he opens his eyes and sees the concerned looks of Beau and Nott, but he can also feel the cool breeze and sand shifting beneath his feet. 

_ Where am I? _He wonders. Was he still in the caves? Who was speaking to him?

_ The rebound is hitting you. Hard. You aren’t going to stay awake for much longer _, a logical voice explains to him, and it takes him a second to realize these are his own words. Caleb shakes out of the other reality, forcing himself back into his head and finding Caduceus right next to him, frowning intensely. 

“Rebound. I’m going to be alright,” Caleb manages, but his tongue feels like clay rolling around in his mouth.

“_Caleb? _” 

He turns around, back on the beach, and is both relieved and confused when he sees Fjord standing with him, still dressed in his usual armor and donning the same wounds and bruises as he had when Caleb last saw him unconscious on the cavern floor. 

Caleb speaks again, feeling a new pain racing up his spine and splitting his head. “It worked… I’m going to rest now.” He isn’t certain who it is he is speaking to, but at that moment he lets go of control, giving in to the other reality instead. As he succumbs to the dark, he feels the heat of the sun and the coolness of the breeze mingling on his skin. He thinks he hears Fjord’s voice in his ear and the warmth of arms supporting him.

The last thing he remembers is praying to whatever gods that will listen that he has done the right thing.


	2. marks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fjord and caleb have somewhat of a talk, some stuff is explained, and there's tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, sorry that this took so long to update! This chapter was really tough since I'm still in a weird transition with Fjord's current voice and his yeehaw voice. Plus, this chapter is a lot of Caleb just worrying, haha. But because of that I had to bump the chapter count up to fit the pacing 030. 
> 
> Again, it seems like I only like to post at really late hours when I'm about to sleep and pass out, so sorry if there are any errors! And thanks so much for all the comments last chapter! The kind words really had me cryin' in the club. Hope you enjoy! <3

The first thing Caleb notices when he wakes up is that he isn’t actually awake. His eyes gaze up at a pale blue sky while the sun shines down at him in perfect weather. The faint calls of seagulls reach his ears occasionally, but it’s the push and pull of the sea that catches his eye. The waves are the first thing that hints at him being in a dream. They never change in size or timing, coming into almost reach his boots before washing away the same shells from the shore. He pushes himself into a sitting position, feeling the sand tumble from his hair and he takes a moment to relish in the sensation of warmth underneath his hand, but he pulls his hand back from the contact instantly.

A sharp pain starts in the center of his palm and shoots up his arm. An angry, pulsing slash greets him, and while it has stopped bleeding, it still hurt as if it were raw. He stretches his hand a bit, flexing fingers and flipping his hand from front to back to inspect for any other oddities on his skin. Part of him expects there to be some kind of mark – a new one, that is. Blood magic is finicky, and from what little he had read on the matter, it often requires sacrifice, namely blood.

Caleb does note that the wound itself is… strange. The skin is older and crusted over, but the magic he feels there is different – _new_. It is as though someone had cut off his hand and replaced it with something foreign. The unnerving part of it all is the faint glow emanating from the wound. The deep red of his blood hums with energy and a dim light pulses in his hand almost within time to a metronome.

“Caleb?” The familiar voice causes him to whip around instantly, ignoring the soreness in every muscle of his body.

To his right, he sees Fjord walking over to him, still bloody, still wounded, but he’s giving Caleb a somewhat sheepish smile. By the time Fjord is next to him, Caleb has to turn his head away in order to avoid the immediate sight of Fjord’s crotch in his face. “Are you — um, I assume this is part of the… binding. Sharing dreams, that is.”

He stops himself from sighing in relief when hearing Fjord sit down next to him, allowing Caleb to face him once again. Fjord shrugs and rests his arms on his pulled up knees. “I’m just as clueless as you are. More so, probably. Are you alright, though? You collapsed earlier and I thought something might have happened to you, well, _worse_ had happened to you.”

Caleb shakes his head, “It was a magic rebound. It usually only affects me if I am unfamiliar with the spell or if I do not have enough magic for what I am trying to cast.”

Fjord tilts his head and quirks an inquiring brow, “Which one was this?”

“A little of both,” Caleb admits. “I understand the concept and foundations of blood magic, but I had never attempted to perform it before today… Ah, actually, how long has it been since…” He waves a hand in the air. “Everything?”

“I’m not quite sure,” Fjord apologizes. “Time is strange here… One second I’m watching you collapse and then a minute later I’m walking up to you, like just now. I can’t really remember if anything happened in between.” Caleb picks up a bit of frustration in his friend’s tone.

“Do not worry yourself over it; it is common for time to be, uh, skewed in dreams. It is very likely that since you are bound to me, we are in my dream,” Caleb begins to explain, but then he takes into account the odd setting that they are in. Well, the beach, the sea — it was unusual for him to be dreaming of such a place, but Fjord, not so much. “Or perhaps it is some fusion of both of our dreams.”

_Thank the gods for that_, Caleb thinks, not even wanting to think about whatever dark and fiery nightmare he could impose on Fjord’s sleep.

Fjord snorts, “That would make sense. No offense, but you don’t seem like the type to dream about sunbathing on a beach. Though, you could use it.”

It takes a few seconds for Caleb to process that Fjord is teasing him. “I will have to pass. I begin to resemble a tomato under too harsh a sun, so I would rather spare you all the sight.”

This time Fjord lets out a hearty laugh, one that comes from his abdomen and Caleb isn’t sure if he’s just imagining the whispers of Fjord’s breath against his skin.

“Truly, a shame.” Fjord says sarcastically, staring at Caleb with a playful spark in his eye.

For a moment, Caleb clings to this. He takes in the curve of Fjord’s lip and the way the sun shines off of his skin. Perhaps it’s the simplicity of it all that he’s drawn to – the peaceful scenery, the calm, casual atmosphere between them. It’s as though he hadn’t just bound Fjord’s soul to his very being, like nothing had even happened. The conversation comes to a lull, allowing the noise of the ocean to come through and wash over them. Caleb is the first to look away, but even then, the image of Fjord grinning at him is burned into his memory.

“Well, now that we’re here, perhaps you could tell me a bit more about this… ‘bond’,” Fjord starts, speaking easily as though he were talking about the weather. “You said that there are limitations but – what exactly do you mean?”

_There it is_, Caleb thinks. His picks at his fingers absently, piecing together what he wants to say before dropping such a large information bomb on his friend. _He’s going to hate you for what you’ve done._

It takes everything he has to quiet the voice in his mind, but he then takes a deep breath.

“As I mentioned before, my knowledge of blood magic is rather sparse. There was a good chance of the ritual failing, especially with my lack of experience and the little preparation. It’s something of a miracle that we succeeded,” he says to Fjord, not meeting the other man’s eyes in fear of what he may find there. “From what little I have read, I’m lead to believe that your soul being bound to mine will make you both vulnerable and stronger.”

In the corner of his eyes, he can see Fjord’s gaze snap over to him, eyes wide. “A bit contradictory, don’t you think?”

Caleb nods, a bit more comfortable away from the emotions of it all and focused more on the facts and speculations in his head. He says, “Unfortunately, yes. Magic that requires some kind of sacrifice is difficult to work with. Because you are bound to me, we are connected – body and soul. We can draw on each other’s strength, but that also means that our weaknesses become one, as well.”

There’s a moment of quiet where Fjord seems to be processing the information, but then Caleb hears him reply, “Looks like we’ll just have to work extra hard not to get into trouble, then.” Fjord stretches his arms over his head, trying to keep up the easy-going facade, but Caleb catches the slight panic and worry buried underneath his expression and hates that he’s the one that put it there.

Something else grabs Caleb’s attention, and suddenly, he rushes forward to catch Fjord’s arm, inspecting it intensely despite the latter’s protests. There, sitting on the underside of his right hand, is a harsh mark burned into once dark green flesh, now almost black. Crude lines form the makings of a winged serpent. Its body is circling a base with three pointed spears forking out from it and he recognizes it as the alchemical symbol for silver. Just like the cut on both of their hands, the mark was older, but crusted blood could still be seen along the edges of the parted skin.

Caleb feels sick at the sight.

“This…” Caleb murmurs, but he can’t even put into words the emotions that run through him at that moment. Anger, worry, guilt – they all mix into a messy soup in the pit of his stomach until he can no longer contain it, and he blurts out, “I am sorry, Fjord. I –.”

“Don’t be. Don’t do that to yourself, Caleb,” Fjord says sternly. “You saved my life. That poison is still wreaking havoc on my insides and you are the only thing keeping me here, you realize that, don’t you? I would be long gone.”

Caleb opens his mouth to respond, but there’s a sudden rush of gratitude and warmth that intrudes on his mind. The emotions come in steady thrums, each wave broadcasting different measures of appreciation, admiration, and determination. When he looks back up, Fjord is looking right at him, his eyes willing Caleb to just _believe_ him.

“I’ve hurt you. Even if I didn’t mean to, you are bound to this inconvenience until we find a way to reverse it –_ if_ we find a way to reverse it. For that, I cannot be sorry enough,” Caleb lets his voice trail off with those last words.

Fjord’s expression softens right before his eyes. “Give me your hand?” It sounds more like a question than any kind of order and Caleb appreciates that.

There’s a brief pause and then he holds his hand up in front of Fjord. The other man grabs his forearm with the opposite hand, linking them together just as Caleb had shown him long ago. The moment their skin touches, a jolt fires its way up his arm, spreading throughout his entire body, and he wonders if Fjord had felt the same thing in his. After a few seconds, the spark leaves nothing but a light tingling where the point of contact is.

A strong sense of confusion circles around in his head, but Caleb isn’t sure if it is his own or Fjord’s. The way Fjord’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sensation leads him to believe that it’s a bit of both. Caleb half expects him to pull his hand away, but instead he feels Fjord grip his arm tighter, golden eyes set in a determination that captivates the mind.

“Do you trust me?” _‘No’_ wasn’t exactly true, but Caleb couldn’t bring himself to answer _‘yes’_ either. The hesitation must have shown on his face, because Fjord then asks, “Do you want to?”

This time, he’s able to reply quietly, but surely, “I do.”

The edges of the dream reality starts to fade and suddenly Caleb is weightless. Fjord also witnesses this, and looks around with a strange sort of calmness, before turning back to him. Even with the world crumbling into dust around them, Fjord tightens his grip on Caleb’s hand and speaks. No sound leaves his lips.

Caleb starts to say, “What? I can’t h…” But his voice is distorted and muffled until it’s just gone. The dream deteriorates quickly after that. His arm is still linked with Fjord’s, but the lines defining their hands start to blur into white. The last image Caleb ingrains into his memory is Fjord’s gentle smile and something that looks a lot like fondness in his eyes.

When he’s finally taken away, Caleb thinks he hears someone say, _“Thank you.”_

* * *

Caleb doesn’t realize how abruptly the dream ends until he’s staring at the wooden ceiling of one of the rooms in the Xhorhaus. He gasps and shoots into an upright position the moment that his eyes open. There’s a pain in his head and throbbing in his palm, but he pushes all of that aside to survey the room. He immediately notices Beau and Jester sitting off to his left, one facing him, while the other appears to be watching something – or someone – else. Beau had been leaning back in her chair precariously, teetering on the back legs when Caleb springs to life in his bed. A curse leaves her mouth and she is barely able to keep herself from falling.

“Whoa, what the – ? You scared the shit outta me!”

“Fjord,” Caleb rasps out, and one of the first things that both his mind and body register is how thirsty he is. A cough threatens to escape from his lips as speaking irritates his dry throat. He swallows again, but it does nothing. “Where’s –?”

At that moment, another body sits up from the opposite side of Jester, causing her to shout in surprise. Caleb spots Fjord taking heavy breaths while scanning the room, taking in his surroundings until he eventually spots Caleb. Their eyes meet and the tension in their bodies leave.

“Okay… that was creepy,” Beau states, crossing her arms in a way that Caleb has learned means that she is unimpressed. “Are you guys always gonna do that now that your souls are bound or whatever?”

“That’s pre-tty cool, though,” Jester chirps, and then her hands go up to cover her mouth dramatically. “OH! Does that mean you have the same dreams? So if Caleb dreams about dancing hamster unicorns, maybe you do too, huh, Fjord?”

Caleb visibly winces at Jester’s on-the-nose guess, but it seems to go unnoticed by everyone except Fjord, who appears equally unsettled.

Beau squints her eyes at the strange logic, “Why would Caleb dream about hamster unicorns?”

“Well, that’s why I said _if_ –.”

“I _knew_ they were awake!” Caleb looks to his right to find both Nott and Caduceus in the doorway. Nott is holding a few misshapen muffins, while Caduceus has two mugs in his hands. “It was way too noisy over here.”

Nott climbs up on Caleb’s mattress, making herself comfortable against the bottom post while Caduceus walks in between the beds. After a cursory inspection, he gives a content smile at him and Fjord. “Glad to see you both up. Once we had the two of you secured, Jester messaged The Shadowhand to come and teleport us back to Rosohna. When you wouldn’t wake I thought that perhaps you had other injuries keeping you at rest. I was worried about how bad the rebound was, but it looks like you were just waiting for Fjord to wake up, too.”

“Hot Boi was here for a bit telling us some stuff about souls and blood magic, but after the first day, he left and told us to get him once you woke up,” Nott says.

Fjord groans a bit when he tries to swing his legs over the side of the bed. “The first day?” He asks, voice ragged. “How long have we been out?”

“Couple of days. We wanted to keep an eye on both of you, so we just moved two beds into Caleb’s room and started taking shifts,” Beau stands from the chair and stretches out her limbs. When Fjord attempts to do the same, she pushes him back down on the bed. And although she had done so gently, Caleb sees Fjord’s legs almost buckle. “Chill out, Cap’n. Apparently, you’re confined to bed rest; clerics’ orders.”

Caleb feels a strange sense of frustration and _uselessness_ flash across his mind, and it doesn’t take him long to piece together that the emotions are actually coming from Fjord. Before he can say anything, a hand stretches out in front of him holding a tall ceramic mug with blue flowers on it.

“It’s just for the rest of today to make sure that the poison leaves Fjord’s system all right. This way we can also learn a bit more about how the binding will affect you both – careful, it’s hot. I hope you don’t mind me giving them your guys’ tea?” Caduceus asks Jester and Beau politely, to which the former replies, “not at all!”, and the latter waves it off.

“Thank you,” Caleb says, then begins to cool off the drink, blowing on it until most of the steam went away. To his side, he could hear Caduceus offering Fjord Beau’s mug and the quiet thanks given. The moment that Caleb takes the first sip, his throat starts to relax and the tickle stuck there vanishes instantly. He has to stop himself from chugging the whole cup, instead taking comfort in the minty flavor settling on his tongue and the warmth in his belly.

Jester is distractedly braiding Beau’s hair when she asks, “Should I message Essek to come over, then? He said that he wanted to speak to Caleb and Fjord specifically.”

Caleb sighs. He can only imagine the things that Essek had to say to them, especially as he specializes in magic that worked in the realm of souls and fate. On the one hand, it would be beneficial to seek out whatever knowledge the man was willing to give them on the matter, but on the other, Caleb is fairly certain that both he and Fjord were going to be scolded.

“Ja, I would appreciate it if you did, Jester. Thank you.” Caleb sends a weak smile towards her, and he isn’t surprised in the least when Jester returns it ten times brighter.

“Of course! Give me a second.” As she closes her eyes to reach for Essek, Beau’s hair is still being played with absently between her fingers.

Caduceus settles in the other chair that Jester had once been in. “How are we feeling today?” He sends the question to both him and Fjord with the usual ever-pleasant rumble.

On the other bed, Fjord is holding his hand close to the chest, like he’s soothing an ache there. “My head is pounding, my arms and legs feel like lead, and something about my hand just isn’t right — but besides that, everything is just peachy.”

If Caduceus is offended by the sass, he doesn’t show it. “Ah, wonderful. Let’s check you over again, then.” The cleric stands to tower over Fjord, and Caleb thinks that he sees Fjord sink further into his bed.

Meanwhile, Jester has her eyes closed and is saying, “Okay, cool, thanks Essek! By the way, could you bring some pastries on your way here?”

There’s a pause.

Jester finishes Beau’s braid and frowns. “He said no.”

“That’s alright, it just means we’ll have to make our own,” Caduceus replies. He’s wrapping a bandage around Fjord’s right hand, taking his time with each loop. After a few more seconds, Caleb hears the moment that he notices the mark on Fjord’s wrist. “Oh.”

Fjord begins to pull back his arm and Caleb can feel the quick flash of shame that races across Fjord’s mind. “It’s from the ritual, but don’t worry, it’s already healed—.”

“Does it hurt?” Caduceus asks.

“No?” Fjord answers, his eyes flicking between Caduceus and over to Caleb. They catch each others’ gaze for just a second. Caleb does his best to give him a reassuring nod, but his stomach still churns whenever he sees the mark. This time Fjord says with more vindication, “No, it’s fine. Doesn’t really feel like… anything, really.”

“Well,” Caduceus smiles lazily. “That’s good. And the cut on your hand?”

As if to test it out, Fjord open and closes his hand, then winces, “Yes.”

“Hm, both Jester and I have already tried to seal it magically, so we may just have to wait and see if it will heal on its own. Leave it bandaged so it won’t get infected and we’ll keep an eye on it.”

Fjord must be expecting more than that, because he blinks owlishly, but then quickly says, “Thank you, Caduceus.”

Caleb watches as he places a comforting hand on Fjord’s shoulder, then turns around and walks over to him. “Your turn, Mister Caleb.”

Nott moves in closer, watching Caduceus begin to bandage his cut hand. “I meant to ask this before, and it’s okay if you don’t want to tell us, but where did you learn that kind of magic, Caleb?” Surprisingly, it’s Nott that poses this question. She sits beside him, her eyes imploring, but soft. And although he says nothing, Caleb can tell that Caduceus is also waiting for an answer to this.

The room goes quiet.

Despite the sudden attention, Caleb sighs and relents, “Back in the library, the one from Twiggy’s ‘fun ball’, I took a few books. One of them had information about old lore and magic, but I have only read a bit on it.”

“Seems like it was just enough to know how to bind souls,” Beau comments offhandedly, but there’s something in her tone that digs for more information. Perhaps that is why Caleb always feels the need to explain himself to her.

And it works, because he confirms, “It was just enough. I did not read a lot, but I knew that there were risks involved. Part of me didn’t believe that it would work, but…”

_But I had to try_, Caleb thinks to himself. He stares at his hand, at the jagged slash across his palm, and commits the view to memory before it is covered with clean gauze. _I owed it to him to try._

Then, a voice echoes through his head: _I’m glad._

Caleb snaps his head up and immediately searches for the eyes that match with the voice. Fjord is already looking at him by the time he finds them, and a small, sheepish smile makes its way across Fjord’s lips.

_You can hear me...?_ Caleb asks mentally, not breaking eye contact.

_Yup,_ Fjord shrugs. _Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop._

Conflicting emotions begin to swirl around Caleb’s head, though it was anxiety and shame that were leading the race. There were so many, too many things that he wants to keep protected. Not only to keep himself sane, but Fjord, as well. He has done things that he isn’t proud of, and he fears the judgement that will come if all of the memories and thoughts in his mind begin to bleed over through their bond. He respects Fjord, and Fjord once told him that he felt the same.

To lose that trust — that friendship — scares Caleb immensely.

When Caleb doesn’t answer, the smile fade from Fjord’s face and Caleb realizes that the mini war inside his mind had made its way over to him.

_We’ll figure this out later_, Caleb thinks, hoping that the look that he’s giving conveys how apologetic he is. After a few seconds, Fjord gives a tiny nod, one that is so short that the others completely miss it.

“So Fjord isn’t going to die now, cool.” Beau states, but then asks, “But what exactly is our next course of action here? Are we gonna try to research some stuff to undo all... this?” She gestures towards both him and Fjord.

“Yes,” Caleb agrees. He already feels guilty enough that Fjord has to be subjected to sharing dreams with him, he doesn’t want to drag this arrangement longer than needed. “It would be best if we found a solution as soon as possible. Though, I am hoping that Essek will have a few ideas to set us in the right direction.”

“I am hoping for that, as well.” Caleb turns towards the entrance of the room and there, standing beneath the doorframe, is Essek Theylas, arms crossed and one brow raised. Both Jester and Beau stand to greet him, but he holds up a patient hand. “I’m sorry, but perhaps we can save the pleasantries for later? I really must speak with your friends.”

“Sure, uh! We’ll just wait in the kitchen!” Jester ushers everyone out, which is a task that proves a bit difficult due to Caduceus’ naturally slow pace and Nott sending daring glares over her shoulder towards Essek.

Eventually, the room is left in silence.

Caleb can see that Fjord appears to be tracking the movements of the other man closely, his expression guarded. Even Caleb finds himself sitting up a bit straighter in the bed as the Shadowhand glides into the space between both beds. A surveying glance is passed over both him and Fjord and Essek sighs, “My, you Nein truly have a knack for trouble, don’t you?”


	3. limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> essek helps where he can, caleb does some thinking, and fjord has a rough time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoooooo boy this chapter took a while. It seems like a lot but when I read it over, not a lot happens in this chapter haha. Again, sorry for the long update time, but this ended up being double of what I usually write. I got to my usual word count and then it just kept. going. Lots of introspection, as usual, but this time we get a bit of Fjord! Thank you to everyone who commented last time! Each review really does make my day. With that said, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, I've reread this too many times to count, but I'm sure there are still errors and for that I'm sorry!

“Well,” Essek says once Caleb explains the situation. He glides over towards Fjord to inspect the mark on his wrist. “This is very intriguing, to say the least.”

Caleb sees Fjord’s eyes glued to the ground and he resists the urge to reach out with his mind to figure out what exactly is going on in the other man’s head. The slight frown on Fjord’s face is worrying, but he refuses to overstep any boundaries simply because they are now easier to break. On the beach – or rather – in their dreams, they had a brief conversation on the matter, but this feels different. Everything is sensitive. Both of them were giants lumbering around in a store full of glass. One of them would eventually break, and Caleb hoped to address their… situation, before that happened. 

** _How ironic_ ** **,** Caleb thinks with a hum. Whenever it comes to Fjord he, Caleb Widogast, a coward and a liar, _ he _ is the one to start most of their conversations. _ He _is the one to confront the other, whether it be about intentions, or simply just checking up on him. It is rare to find someone else whose emotions are even more bottled up than his. 

A subtle buzz prickles at the back of his mind and he is suddenly aware of how much he is projecting his thoughts.

From across the room, Caleb can see Fjord’s gaze lift and his expression shifts into one of puzzlement. 

** _Dammit_ ** **,** he can only pray that most of his concerns had been somewhat contained. 

Caleb clears his throat, ignoring the look for now, and instead he says to Essek, “Do you happen to know anything about this kind of ritual? I was hoping that something like this would fall under your area of expertise, and the others mentioned that you had, uh, explained some things to them, so…” 

Essek turns to him, his expression unreadable, but he does admit, “Yes, I know a bit of this magic. Frankly, I am surprised that you managed to pull this off at all. And I do not mean offense, only that you have achieved something that is meant to take months of preparation in under two minutes. You being able to perform such a feat, and under such duress… it is impressive.”

Caleb tries not to shrink under the calculating gaze of the other wizard, but his words surprised him. He had known of the difficulties of blood magic and soul tampering, but he had not expected it to be such a huge achievement. It certainly didn’t feel that way with all the guilt weighing down on him.

“I will tell you what I have told your friends. Soul binding is incredibly sensitive, and no binding is the same as the other. You may not be aware of it, but it is essentially your souls coming to an agreement to be linked. Depending on the strength of that bond, there may be additional... conditions,” Essek explains, still hovering in the space between them.

Caleb reaches for his notebook and scrambles around in his pockets for a pen, “What might some of these effects be? From what you know.”

Essek thinks for a moment, then says, “Well, what I have researched, it is said that the souls are always connected. In other words, you have a telepathic bond with one another. Am I correct to assume that this is the case with you two?”

“It is, yes,” Caleb says, feeling himself flush slightly. He doesn’t mention anything about sharing emotions. It is a small addition, one that Essek would most likely pay little attention to, but for some reason Caleb can’t bring himself to say it. Fjord also does nothing to correct him.

“Yes, that is not unusual… let’s see.” A black and silver book appears in his hand, shimmering into existence. It is a bit different from the other tome that he allowed Caleb to study from, and he can only assume it is where Essek keeps his notes. “Ah, I do remember something about sharing vitality.”

“Vitality?” Fjord’s head snaps up. “So you mean—?”

Essek nods, “If Caleb dies, then you will, as well. Because your soul is bound to his, he is the only thing tethering you to this plane. Unfortunately, I am unsure if the same applies if Fjord were to fall, instead. As you may have gathered, there are not many cases of successful soul bindings, and the ones that are... end very similarly.”

Caleb closes his eyes to process this information. Somewhere in his mind, he had assumed that Fjord’s strengths and weaknesses would become his own, and vice versa. What he hadn’t been expecting is that his own death would mean the end for both of them, but not the other way around. It seems almost cruel to think of it that way, as if Fjord’s life is not as meaningful as his. Just the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

“So, um, do you happen to know how to reverse these effects…?” Fjord asks, somewhat gingerly. If he has received any of Caleb’s emotions, he doesn’t show it.

Essek shakes his head and gives something that resembles a shrug beneath his heavy mantle, “I do not. Keep in mind that most people who bind their souls do not intend to break that bind. After all, both must give their consent for the magic to even take place. I do know of certain _ components _ that may be beneficial to this ritual — I will leave you a list — but, that is about as far as my knowledge reaches.”

Caleb deflates a bit. He knew that going to Essek would be a stretch, and while he had given them some valuable information, Caleb is still incredibly out of his depth.

Essek seems to notice the dejected look on his face and says, “From my understanding, each binding is unique, therefore the ritual itself is something that only Caleb can create. You are at least fortunate in the fact that it is significantly easier to break a bond than to form one, or at least how you are _ suppose _to form one, yours being the exception. I imagine that a considerable amount of studying will have to be done, but the answers are within you, friend.”

“Thank you,” Caleb replies, caught off guard by the genuine attempt at console. 

“I am sorry that I could not be of more assistance,” Essek apologizes. “I do recommend, Fjord, that you not put too much strain on yourself. I am not a healer, but I know that souls are fragile things. It is best to let yourself settle first before jumping into the fray.”

Fjord also appears surprised by the advice, but says, “I will keep that in mind, thank you.”

Essek nods respectfully, standing a bit taller, clearly preparing for an exit. “If that is all, I will take my leave. You may have Jester contact me if you have further questions, but _ only _ if they are important, please.” In the corner of his eye, Caleb catches a brief knowing twitch of Fjord’s lips.

“Of course,” Caleb agrees, knowing full well that he cannot keep such a promise.

“Then, I wish you both the best of luck,” Essek reaches a hand out of his robes, placing a small piece of paper in Caleb’s hands. “May the light of the Luxon be with you.”

Caleb thinks he hears Beau’s voice offering Essek a “White Xhorhasian”, but it is met with a curt, “No, thank you,” and the bell from the front door rings after his departure. While that all is happening, he opens up the small list of items that has been recommended to him by the other wizard. There are about eight different suggested components, and as he goes down the list, the chances of obtaining them seem slim given the rarity of some of them. However, the moment that his eyes catch a familiar item, he nearly leaps up from his seated position on his bed.

“Good news, then?” Fjord catches his attention and gives Caleb a small, encouraging smile.

He stammers out, something akin to excitement causing his voice to tremble, “T-This is… incredibly fortunate…! I feared that these would be difficult to find – and even more difficult to procure, but if these are truly what we need… Do you remember Madam Musk?”

Caleb watches Fjord glance up and rub his chin in thought. He knows the exact moment when Fjord recalls the memory from his less than enthusiastic reaction. “You mean that creepy person we ran into in Asarius? The one with the rocking chair?” Fjord makes a face, most likely visualizing the person in question. “What about them?”

“Do you recall them telling us about tumor moss?” Caleb prompts again, but judging by Fjord’s expression, he already knows where this is going.

“We need _ tumor moss _for the unbinding, thread-cutting, whatever-you’d-like-to-call-it ritual?” Fjord asks.

“Yes,” Caleb answers, his initial enthusiasm returning. “Most of the things that Essek has listed are earthly, which is most likely in order to ground your soul to this plane again. But this – this is just one of many. If we can find at least three of the components here, it should amplify my abilities greatly – enough that we can have this ritual done by the end of the week if all goes well.”

The moment he says that, there’s a shift in the mood of the room, and most of it is coming from Fjord. Caleb is immediately assaulted by waves of doubt and hurt before the emotions are quickly reeled back in, leaving him confused and a bit worried. Perhaps Fjord doesn’t believe that Caleb is capable of reversing their binding. Maybe he is concerned over the week that he would have to spend attached to someone else’s mind. After all, despite the ingredients and help that Essek has given them, Caleb was still going to have to essentially _ make _ his own unbinding ritual – and who knows how long that would take. 

With this in mind, he reassures Fjord, “I will do extensive studying before attempting anything, of course. The week is just a rough estimate – it could be sooner if we are lucky enough to find the right components…”

“No, no,” Fjord says quickly, but his eyes have returned to their spot on the ground. “Don’t worry about it. Take the time you need. I’m only sorry that I cannot be of much help…” 

** _Lie_ ** **,** the voice in his head alerts him of this, and it’s so quick that he isn’t sure if it’s his own instinct telling him this or Fjord’s thoughts. Caleb is about to open his mouth to comment on it, but he is interrupted when Caduceus pokes his head around the corner with a lazy grin.

“Well, that was a lovely visit,” is all he says, slowly entering the room while the rest of the group files in after him. “Was he helpful?”

Caleb glances over at Fjord, hoping to catch his eye, but he appears to be lost in thought, only snapping back to reality when Jester sits beside him on the bed. 

“Ja, it was very, uh, educational. We were able to confirm a few things. That, and Essek has provided a list of materials that may be of assistance in the unbinding ritual,” Caleb relays, holding up the paper that he was given. 

Beau, steps over to take it from his hand and peers down at the contents curiously. “Silver water, frosted ivy, _ the bark from the seven trees _ – what the hell is all this?” Her face twists into one of what can only be described as mild exasperation.

Nott snatches the paper from Beau’s hand and both she and Jester begin reading the list, as well. “Oh! Tumor moss! That’s from that one creepy lady in the City of Beasts!” Nott says, her voice shrill in her recollection.

Jester’s eyes light up as she claps her hands together. “The kobold lady! They were pretty cool, actually.”

Fjord grumbles at the word “cool”.

“So, you just need all the stuff on this list and you can un-glue yourselves from each other?” Beau asks, folding her arms into her usual stance. 

Caleb sighs, “Not exactly.” He could have all the magical components in the world, but it would mean nothing if he didn’t understand the structure of the ritual. And unfortunately, he doesn’t remember there being anything in the blood magic tome about _ unbinding _ a soul. 

**_That would just be too convenient, now wouldn’t it?_** Caleb thinks to himself frustratedly.

Sympathy slowly trickles into his mind and Caleb looks up to see Fjord staring at him, an encouraging glow in his eyes. ** _It’s okay._ **

Caduceus’ rumble brings Caleb back to the conversation at hand. “Well, the day is still young. Perhaps we can speak to Madame Musk and see what they have to offer. Fjord, I still think it would be best if you rested for the day, but just a few of us will do, I think.”

The rest of the group shares a few glances, most likely trying to decide who would stay and who would go. Jester is the first to pipe up.

“I can stay!” She beams at Fjord, who tries his best to smile back, but it didn’t quite work. “I think at least one healer should be with Fjord, anyway. Plus, I can send messages in case anything goes wrong.”

With that logic in mind, Caleb says, “And I have the means to get us there. I can teleport us there and back without too much of an issue.”

Beau shrugs, “I’ll stay with Jester and Fjord, then.” 

“I guess that leaves me, Cads, and Caleb going, then?” Nott asks the group. 

There’s a chorus of agreement before their eyes all drift over to Fjord, who has stayed quiet for most of the conversation. His eyes widen at the attention and he waves a hand quickly. “Oh, don’t worry about me. But, um, what about you Caleb? Are you sure you’re up to the task after… everything?”

“Oh,” Caleb says shortly, not expecting the sudden question or concern. “Yes. I am doing well, all things considered. The rebound has run its course, so I am good now. And, ah, you… you do not mind staying?”

“No, I actually don’t mind sitting this one out. Essek may have been right about the whole settling-the-soul thing. My body does not seem to want to cooperate at the moment,” Fjord grimaces when he tries to roll his shoulders and stretch his arms. Nobody points out the fact that he did technically _ die _ before Caduceus brought his soul back for Caleb to bond. 

Honestly, Caleb is just glad that Fjord’s words from earlier seem genuine, especially when it comes to staying behind and recuperating. He knows that the other man often struggles with his sense of self-worth – hell, Caleb _ still _ struggles with his own – but with the support from the group, he is glad to see Fjord coming to terms with it. 

Caleb stands from the bed, only feeling a slight ache in his bones as he does. “If you are sure…” 

Fjord snorts, and Caleb purposefully ignores the way his heart jumps at the noise. “I am, don’t worry. You go ahead. I’m sure I’ll be better after a little catnap.”

Caleb’s fingers twitch and he has to resist the urge to snap Frumpkin into existence beside Fjord, remembering his aversion to cats. “Well… We will be back quickly, and one step closer to setting things right again.”

“I’m counting on you,” Fjord says back, his lips curving into a boyish grin that floods Caleb’s chest with warmth.

The heat in his cheeks makes him hyper aware of everyone in the room, and he ducks his head after he swears he hears Jester make a cooing noise while Beau snickers. 

Caduceus speaks after that, “All right, then. Nott, Caleb and I will go to Madame Musk to hopefully get some tumor moss, while the rest of you can relax here.” After a few nods, the air becomes lighter as the group starts to move. Nott and Caduceus go to grab their traveling gear and weapons, while Beau and Jester take to talking to Fjord.

Caleb is grateful for the redirection of attention and walks over to a small basket in the room where his things are being kept and starts to tie his component pouch to his waist. He picks up small traces of the conversation taking place behind him. 

“... feeling better?”

“... worry. I’m fine.”

“Caleb?” His attention snaps over to Nott, who is staring at him intently with Caduceus right behind her. “Are you ready?”

Caleb glances over at the others and sees that they have managed to help Fjord to his feet. Out of the three, he seeks out only one of their gazes’ and is not surprised in the least when he finds it. He allows himself a few seconds in the deep gold of his eyes, then nods and turns away. 

“Ja, let’s go.”

* * *

Fjord watches from the foyer as Caleb, Caduceus and Nott leave the house and close the door behind them. The sight causes an odd sensation to spark in his gut, one that tugs on something that’s deep seated in his mind, but he pushes it away when an arm slings around his shoulder. 

“Whoops,” Beau says ruefully when her added weight nearly sends them both crashing to the ground. “Sorry, I forgot how weak you are right now.”

The only thing that Fjord does in return is send a half-heated glare, but he drops it quickly, mainly because he knows that Beau means no ill will by it. After all, she’s simply stating a fact, one that Fjord has been well aware of for most of his life. Even when the Wildmother had lent him her strength, he was a beanpole compared to people like Jester and Yasha. 

** _You’re not weak_ ** **.** Caleb’s voice rings out through his head. ** _At least, you are not a beanpole._ **

Fjord nearly jumps beneath Beau’s arm, but he manages to school his features in time. **_Perhaps warn a man before you start talking into his head?_** It’s a stupid response, he knows, and really, he’s half joking, but he doesn’t expect Caleb to answer so seriously.

**_I am sorry,_** Caleb apologizes, and Fjord can feel the waves of regret echoing off of him. **_You think very loud._**

Dammit, Fjord doesn’t mean for him to be _ sorry. _

** _No, it’s fine. I –. _ **While preoccupied with the other conversation going on in his head, Fjord almost misses what Jester is saying to him.

“Don’t worry, Fjord,” she begins to reassure him, her voice reaching a higher octave like it does whenever she is trying to convince other people of something. “The others will be back with the components for the ritual and you’ll be back to normal!”

** _Normal…_ ** He mulls over the word. Normal is what he wants, right? Contrary to what he knows Caleb believes, Fjord doesn’t mind being bound to him. Having someone inside your head with you is something that he doesn’t think he will ever truly get used to, but he doesn’t hate it. Nor does he blame Caleb for it. He was just glad to be alive, and he doesn’t think anything he says will ever convince the other man of just how grateful he truly was for that fact. 

Sure, it would be less trouble for both of them if things were to just go back to the way they were before. No voices in their heads, no overflowing emotions, just… Caleb and Fjord – the… friends? Well, that’s what Caleb had told him, is that they _ are _ friends. At the time, it sent a warm, comforting feeling into his chest, but there are times when he doubts it. 

Fjord is by no means going to win any awards for being the most open and friendly, that went to Jester, hands down. But that was his facade, his persona, _ Vandren _ , but now that he came clean to the group, he’s just Fjord. Fjord – an awkward half-orc that has some trust issues along with other baggage. Now that he is just _ him _, he wants to be that person, he wants to be a friend to the rest of the group without the idea that he has to be someone else. 

But with Caleb… Well, Fjord just wishes that Caleb felt that way, too. He wishes that Caleb would just let down the walls and be completely open and honest about his bullshit – Fjord knows from experience just how freeing it is. However, he also knows that it just isn’t that simple. Even now, with their minds linked, he can feel the mental barricade that Caleb has started constructing within the short amount of time that they’ve been bound. And truthfully, it stings a bit to know that the other man still doesn’t trust him – _ them _ – with his past. It’s not unexpected, in fact, Fjord doesn’t even blame him for it. 

Both of them have difficult histories, Caleb’s being a bit more tricky than others – that much, he knows. Because of this, Fjord doesn’t fault him for being wary and keeping to himself.

He just... wishes things were different.

“Fjord?” Jester is right in front of him, tilting her head to get a better look at his face. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Oh, yes, I – sorry,” he desperately tries to remember what she had last said to him. “I was thinking. What were you saying?”

Jester stands straight and repeats, “I said to not worry! Caleb and the others will be back soon.”

Fjord gives what he hopes is his best smile back at her, but it quickly falters, “Thanks, Jester. I know right now it’s a waiting game. It just sucks to have to be stuck here like this. Not only that, but now you both have to babysit me, too.”

“No, no, no!” Jester says frantically, her eyes filled with a concern that Fjord appreciates. “We don’t mind being here! Been there, done that, you know? Plus, now we actually have some time to work on the house again, right Beau?”

“Uhh,” Beau shoots a glance at Jester, who is wordlessly giving her a look that yells ‘_ agree! _’, so she shrugs. “Eh, I don’t mind it. We could always, I don’t know, try baking some of those pastries that Caduceus always says he’s gonna make?”

Jester’s eyes light up, “You’re right! We can – oh!” She seems to remember herself then, and then turns back to Fjord instantly. “Do you want to bake with us, Fjord? If you don’t feel like it, we can just do something else in the room so you’re not alone. Maybe we can play a game?” 

** _But I’m not alone_ ** **,** he thinks to himself with an upward twitch of his lips that he hopes the other two don’t notice.

Beau starts to rummage through Jester’s haversack, “Uh, yeah, gimme a sec. I’m pretty sure that I have a deck of cards or something, if you’re into that.”

Fjord holds up a hand, “Don’t worry about me; you two can go ahead. I’m pretty exhausted from everything, so I think I’ll just lay down and rest for a bit.”

Beau and Jester have a small mental conversation before Beau sighs, tossing the bag back down onto a nearby chair. “If you say so. Holler if you need us, then.” Then, she walks out of the room, giving a not-so-subtle nod of the head to Jester to follow. Jester sends one last small smile towards him and leaves.

Once they are clear of the doorway, Fjord allows himself to sink down on the bed with a groan. Every muscle in his body is sore, and a faint burning lingering in his chest. But at least he’s alive. With a bit of effort, he pulls off his boots and lies back down on the mattress, rubbing one hand over his chest to soothe it, while he held the other out in front of him. The bandage over the wound on his hand, white and pristine, is a huge contrast to the scabbed over marking on his wrist. He runs delicate fingers over the rough skin, but then draws back. 

Fjord settles into the bed with a goal in mind. He stares at the dark wood of the ceiling for just a moment, then closes his eyes, reaching out with his mind.

** _Caleb?_ ** He tries to contact the other man, but just _ thinking _ into the empty space of his mind is an odd experience. It’s like he is knocking on the door to Caleb’s conscious, just waiting for him to let him inside. And now that he’s thought of that metaphor, it makes the whole thing ten times weirder. 

After a couple more beats of silence, he’s ready to accept that Caleb has just completely closed himself off to him, but then a reply comes across their connection.

** _Did you need something, Fjord?_ ** Caleb’s voice echoes in his head, and then his mind starts building. All he sees is darkness, completely void of light except for the one thing in front of him that glows with his own aura. An image of Caleb is about twenty feet away from him, his feet standing on absolutely nothing. Not only that, but the image of him is exactly how Fjord last saw him: his eyes tired, his hair a bit ruffled, but his expression is one of curiosity. 

** _I’m not… dreaming, right? _ **Fjord says to him while trying to better place where they were. Everywhere he turns – black.

** _No, I don’t believe you are. You reached out to my mind. I suppose this space is where meet if we were to visualize our connections._ ** Fjord notes that Caleb sounds a bit different than before. Each time he speaks, his voice echoes more, but it also sounds quieter. It’s not quite like it had been before Caleb left. 

** _Looks like our signal has a bit of a range_ ** **,** Fjord says jokingly.

There’s a small twitch of Caleb’s lips as he replies, ** _Y_ ** ** _es, I suppose there is. Most likely due to the distance between us._ **

** _Yeah…_ **

The space becomes impossibly quiet without either of them speaking, but Caleb disrupts the peace. **_What is it that you wanted to –_** “No, I have not.”

Fjord, or rather Mind-Fjord, blinks at the strange sentence. ** _Uh, what?_ **

**_Sorry._** Caleb says, **_Nott was asking me a question. What is it that you wanted to speak to me about?_**

**_I, uh…_** Fjord starts. **_I was wondering about what you said before. About me thinking loud…? Can you... hear everything?_**

Caleb doesn’t appear surprised by the question, nor does his expression change much on the matter. ** _Not everything. Just a bit. However, I have not attempted to listen since earlier._ **

**_You can just turn it off?_** Fjord asks this, but he knows what Caleb’s done, how he’s put up mental defenses already.

** _Not exactly. I only pay attention if I can feel your intentions, or rather, that you can want me to hear. Like right now, for instance._ **

** _I see. _ ** Fjord says, thinking over Caleb’s explanation. It’s for the best, really. Both of them have things that they would rather not have the other hear, and this way their privacy isn’t being completely invaded, either. Still, Fjord can’t help but linger on the strange sensation in his chest – a pull that makes him want to just be _ near _–.

**_Ah,_** Caleb clears his throat and Fjord realizes that all of what he’s currently thinking is being broadcasted at full blast to the man in front of him. Since Caleb put down his walls for a second to allow their mental meeting to be possible, all of their thoughts were currently out in the open to be heard. 

He was sure that his mind-self was blushing pretty heavily by now.

** _Sorry, I —._ **

**_When I get back, perhaps we can talk about… what we are comfortable with, _**Caleb says, only a bit hesitant. **_It will make this whole ordeal feel a lot less… intrusive._**

**_R-right,_** Fjord says, but he actually wants to curse. **_We could always talk about it now?_**

** _No,_ ** Caleb says. ** _No, I think this would be best face to face. _ **

Fjord simply agrees, trying to keep his thoughts reeled in. He envies the control that Caleb has on his mind.

** _It is from years of practice, friend,_ ** Caleb tells him, as Fjord’s thoughts are projected once again through the dark space. This time Caleb does smile, ** _you will get it soon enough._ **

Fjord huffs, ** _yeah. I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me._ **

**_I always do,_** Caleb replies.

But his lips don’t move.

Fjord watches Caleb’s eyes widen when the words reverberate against non-existent walls, the thought floating easily into the conversation unintentionally. All Fjord can do is stare in shock at the slip-up, while the tips of Caleb’s ears burn red. 

** _W-we are teleporting to Rohsana now. We should be back quickly once we’ve spoken to Madam Musk and uh, acquired the components. _ **

Fjord visualized the image of the creepy, cloaked figure, moving back and forth on their rocking chair. Even though he knew the truth behind what was beneath the robes, he still remembers the horrible pitch of their voice and eerie tremble to it. It’s enough to make him shutter.

**_Oh, yeah, um. Stay safe,_** a strange sense of vulnerability floods through him, causing him to feel the need to add, **_all of you._**

**_Ja,_** Caleb says, nodding. **_We will be back soon. Get some rest, Fjord._**

Before he can even think of a response, he gasps when a sharp pain cuts across his mind. The feeling grates across all of his senses, like someone is sawing through the connection between him and Caleb. A pressure pushes down on his brain, and he fears that the weight of it will crush him. The sensation grows into a splitting headache and Fjord can feel something start to trickle from his nose as he clutches his head. All he can do is writhe in agony, curling in on himself while the pain becomes more and more intense.

Beyond the haze that fills his mind, he thinks that he can feel faint traces of Caleb trying to reach out to him, calling for him in a panic. But even thinking is a challenge with the pain lancing through every fiber of his being. The only thing stronger than the strain in his head is the insistent _ pull _ that is calling out to him. There’s somewhere he needs to go – somewhere he needs to _ be_. And it’s that feeling that brings Fjord to understand the cause of his affliction.

Caleb is his tether to his very existence, but with him so far away… Fjord’s soul is tearing itself apart.

“J-Jester! B...eau!” Fjord tries to yell, but their names become a garbled mess in his mouth. He forces himself to move to one side, throwing his legs over the bed in an effort to make it to the doorway before he completely loses control of himself.

It doesn’t take long for his inoperable limbs to collapse the second that he stands on them. He makes a last ditch effort to catch himself on the nightstand only to end up crashing to the floor. There’s a heavy slam and he catches a glimpse of the dark blue ceramic remains of Beau’s mug scattered on the floor around him. The impact of his head against the wood sends him reeling, and lights flash in his vision. Despite the stunning fall, he tosses and turns on the ground, trying to find some position that will assuage the burning in his veins. 

A loud ringing blares in his ears and it takes him a second to realize that someone is screaming. It takes him ten more to realize that it’s _ him _ screaming. Despite this, he can soon hear the distant sound of heavy footfalls racing towards him. A higher pitch, “Fjord?!” is lost in the fog that has begun to take over his mind.

The strain on his and Caleb’s connection is barely hanging on, but then something else _ snaps. _ Fjord’s fingers dig into his chest as one of the worst pains he’s ever felt begins to tear into him. Even when he had been under Uk’otoa’s influence, even when he had been ripped apart in his dreams, it hardly came close to the agony that burns inside him at that moment. His flesh feels like it is being torn from his bones, his insides are on fire, and his heart hammers like it is going to burst. The pressure starts to press on his airways, making him take in short bursts of air, like a fish out of water. When he runs frantic fingers across his chest, clawing at his throat, he feels nothing but unmarred skin beneath, and _ oh gods I’m going to suffocate. _

“C-Ca-leb,” Fjord can only rasp out the name before his lungs begin to fold in on themselves. Darkness begins to creep along the edge of his vision, threatening to swallow him while the rest of the world fades away.

Through the haze, he can hear Beau’s voice somewhere — far away. “Fjord! … fucking dare let it take you! Caleb’s… right now, just — awake!” Anger dominates her tone, but Fjord thinks he can hear a slight waver in her voice when she pleads for him to _ stay _.

The pain doesn’t stop — and Fjord is so _ tired _.

But then there’s a loud crash somewhere ahead of him. Wind sweeps around him, soothing the agony away until the burning is just met with a dull sting that resonates throughout his entire body. Delicate hands start to roam around him, running down his arm until one hand is clasped within his and it feels good – it feels _ right _.

Fjord does his best to squeeze the hand, letting whoever it is know that he’s okay, but his grip is feeble compared to the iron lock of the other. With their hands clasped, the pain starts to ebb as his head is lifted up and placed into someone’s lap. The whole time, that someone is out of breath, whispering his name occasionally along with small reassuring words and apologies. Whoever it is, they still seem far, far away, but he lets his muscles relax under their reassuring presence.

** _I am here. Please, I am here, now. I’m sorry._ **

The pleas begin to make their way through the mist in his mind, getting louder and closer with each word.

** _Please be all right, I am so sorry. Please –. _ **

** _Fjord._ **

There’s a hand against his cheek and he instinctively leans into it, letting the cool of their touch ward off the remaining flames that sit on his skin. His breaths come in heavy, ragged pants, but he is grateful for them after being deprived for even a short while. The hand lightly brushes his face as it retreats upwards and starts to run across his hair. It pushes back stray strands that have clung to his face with sweat, a gentle gesture that is so incredibly intimate, something that would have flustered him had he been in the right mind. However, now, with his limbs unresponsive and every cell in his body focused on reminding him to _breathe,_ he can’t bring himself to care. 

** _Please open your eyes._ **

Fjord listens to the voice, flinching a bit when his senses all start to return to him at once and the torchlight is too much. After another few seconds, he tries again, cracking his eyes open.

His vision blurs briefly, but once it clears, he sees the tired, worried face of Caleb Widogast above him. Bright blue eyes hover over him, wide and even a bit damp, staring down at him.

“C-Cay—…” is the only sound that leaves him and Fjord frowns at his inability to properly speak. 

“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t push yourself; just rest,” Caleb says, his voice just above a whisper. 

Fjord tries to bring a hand up to maybe do something daring and stupid, like push away Caleb’s hair so he can see his eyes better—

_(a bright, but deep blue, like the sea, like the ocean he misses)_

— but his arm only makes it part of the way up before losing strength. “Yo—u. Yo—u c-came.” _ Why is talking so fucking hard right now? _

“I did,” Fjord only now notices that Caleb is also breathing heavily._ Why? _“You… I’m sorry for leaving you.”

Fjord wants to respond, wants to keep looking up at Caleb like he’s the damn world, but exhaustion sweeps through him in waves, making his eyes droop and his thoughts murky. Fjord’s body aches everywhere, in his legs, in his arms, his head, his _ soul_, he can feel _ everything – _but he takes comfort in the fact that the hands have not moved from their position. One rests on his head, while the other sits within his own palm. 

There’s a couple more whispered voices somewhere above him, but he couldn’t be bothered to try and place them at the moment. Then, gentle hands press against his tunic, spreading a soothing pulse through his chest. The magic chips away at the soreness in his body by a miniscule amount, but it still makes him sigh in relief, letting out a shuddering breath. 

Seconds, maybe minutes pass and the hands around him start to withdraw. Fjord’s eyes widen blearily, searching for his missing comfort, but Caleb is quick to return to his side. “Hey, it is all right. I am still with you, Fjord.”

The words take a moment to process in his sluggish mind, but he eventually lays back down, still leaning up against Caleb’s legs. And while he knows somewhere in the back of his mind that he’s going to be _ extremely _ embarrassed once he comes back to himself, he pulls at the hand resting on his head. Fjord brings the arm down until he can hug Caleb’s forearm to his chest, fulfilling his desire to be close, to feel Caleb’s presence with him. He can’t explain it, nor can he explain the peaceful calm that washes over him. Satisfied with his position, Fjord lets his eyes drift shut again. 

There’s shuffling and talking around him again, and it’s not until he feels Caleb shift that he squeezes the arm tighter. 

“I am not leaving you, Fjord,” Caleb says, his voice distant, but the hand against Fjord’s chest reminds him that isn’t the case. There’s a few other words, whispers that fade into nothing, then silence. Soon enough, Fjord leaves that all behind and focuses on the lure of sleep and oblivion.

_ “ _ ** _I promise you._ ** _ ” _


End file.
